Beneath the Surface
by hamgsrship
Summary: This is a submission for the GSRForeverOnline 2011 Smut Fest.  Sara's had enough of Grissom's rejections so with a bit of temper on both their parts, they come to terms with the passion that's always been hidden just beneath the surface.


**Beneath the Surface**

Sara's had enough of Grissom's rejections so with a bit of temper on both their parts, they come to terms with the passion that's always been hidden just beneath the surface.

_This is my submission for the GSRForeverOnline Smut Fest 2011. My prompts were candle wax, beads and feathers. As you will soon find, I couldn't decide between this story and another idea I had, so I wrote both. This one is a one-shot, the other one, using the same prompts but a very different storyline is complete at four chapters. Enjoy!_

Sara watched the _**candle wax**_drip down the thick flaming columns of paraffin that she had placed around the tub. Tonight, she's burning "Midnight Woods" because the smell reminded her of Grissom, but she wished she was burning "him!" Who in the hell does he think he is? Calling her to come all the way from San Francisco—and for what? For him to chase after Terri Miller for over a year and then have this "new" bitch come into the picture. Enough is enough. She can't continue to stay here and have him flaunting himself in front of her. She knew she was going to have to go off on her own and lick her wounds, then begin again.

So, here she was, licking her wounds-sort of-or at least letting Calgon bath oil _**beads**_ attempt to take her away from her emotional turmoil. She had to think about anything but him; an easier idea than actual deed. She remembered how he looked at her when she entered his office with the night's report only to find Sophia Curtis sitting on the edge of his desk in front of him. Guilt was written all over his face. She simply dropped the report into a chair and stormed out, letting the door slam behind her. She thought she might have heard something behind her but she was too busy trying to keep from letting any of the tears fall that had sprung to her eyes. It was only a quick skip and jump into her car and she was about to drive out of the garage when Greg stopped her.

"Sara—wait!"

She put on her brakes and lowered her window. If anyone could have stopped her, it was Greg or Nicky. They both held a special place in her heart.

"Greg, can you make it fast? I'm kinda in a hurry to go home."

"To what? An empty apartment? Meet me at the Cinema-Flex down on Maple. There's a Charles Bronson double-feature." He gave her one of his most endearing puppy-dog smiles and she couldn't stop the slant of her lips as she looked at him.

"I don't know, Greg. Maybe another time, okay? I'm really not feeling up to it today."

"Sara—you've got to get past this. He's only going to hurt you as long as you let him. He isn't worth it."

"Really? And who "is?" She asked a bit dejectedly.

"I don't know—Charles Bronson! Clark Gable! At this point I'd even say Jim Varney would treat you better."

"Greg, those men are dead."

"There—see? Already, they're not disrespecting you. That's an improvement right there," he teased.

Sara gave him another small smile then looked past him at the door where Grissom was just walking out. "I've got to go now, Greg."

Greg looked over his shoulder then back to her. "Yeah, alright. But I'm not giving up on the Cinema-Flex. I'll be waiting for your answer. Don't forget—Charles Bronson won't make you feel like crap."

Sara drove off, knowing she wasn't going to attend a double-feature that day. She had gone home and looked at her mail, not finding anything worthwhile then she went into the kitchen where she stared into her near-empty refrigerator. She really needed to go grocery shopping one of these days. She went into her living room and turned on the television but after flipping through the channels for less than a minute knew this wasn't the answer. Finally she paused on a commercial of a woman soaking in a bathtub as the words "Calgon, take me away!" were sighed.

That was what gave her the idea and she marched straight into her bathroom where she filled her tub with warm water, poured bath oil beads into it which turned it a lovely blue, then went about lighting her "Midnight Woods" candles and setting them around the tub. She soaked until she was sure the bath calmed her at least a little, then she got out of the tub and put on her white terry robe, pinned her hair up in a sloppy bun then started for her bedroom. The knock on her front door made her sigh with exasperation. Yes, she loved Greg dearly, but at times like these, she wanted to be alone. She went to the door and opened it only enough to be heard.

"Not today, okay? I'm really not in the mood."

The door was pushed open with such force that she had to take a step back. She was about to tear into Greg for being so clumsy when she saw the man with gray/brown hair and beard and eyes so blue that she could see the ocean's depths in them.

"That's funny, you were more than in the mood when you were at the lab," he retorted.

"Grissom." She looked blankly at him, not comprehending what he was saying immediately as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that he was actually standing in her living room. "I—I thought you were Greg."

"He just left. I told him you were going to be busy."

"You sent him away?" She attempted to move toward the door to look outside, but he stepped in front of her and pushed the door closed.

"I don't think you should be going outside wearing only your robe, even if you do find it acceptable to greet Greg Sanders wearing practically nothing."

She looked at him, seeing something a little different than his usually neutral reactions to her.

"Why are you here, Grissom? Shouldn't you be back at the lab with your latest little groupie?"

He stared at her a long moment. "My interactions with people at the lab don't concern you. I don't know how to make that any clearer."

Sara felt as if her heart was being torn from her chest as she looked at him. "You made it perfectly clear when you informed me that "the lab needed me," that I was merely an employee to you. You make it very clear every time I ask you to join the crew for breakfast and you always decline, but if "I'm" not with the other guys, you seem to have no problem showing up. You made it abundantly clear when I asked you to go to dinner and you flat out refused! But damn! You were quick to jump in the fire with Sophia—weren't you? I bet you didn't tell her to stay because "the lab needed her!"

"You're angry because you think I'm involved with a woman," he said so calmly she almost laughed at him.

"A woman? You don't now what a REAL woman is, Grissom! You wouldn't know what to do with a real woman!"

He stood there looking at her face, then his eyes dropped to her robe and on to her legs and feet. "I know what to do. Do you think maybe it takes a REAL woman to get me to the point of actually doing it?"

His comment struck her like a knife and before she knew it her hand cracked against his skin. She slapped him a second time before he grabbed her arm and held it. She tried to free herself but he held onto her. She tried to step away from him but in her haste, she stepped on the belt to her robe and nearly tripped, making him grab onto her even tighter. She landed against the wall with a thud but her main concern at that moment was the robe that had been yanked open as it hung from her shoulders, revealing more of her than she had wanted. She grabbed it with her left hand but when he saw her movement, he grabbed that wrist too and pushed them both against the wall behind her. She lifted her head in defiance as she watched him try to be inconspicuous as he repeatedly glanced downward to inspect her bare body.

"Have you seen enough?" She said through grit teeth. "Are you comparing it to HER?"

He lifted his gaze but lowered it again, now openly taking in the sight of her exposed flesh.

"There's no comparison," he breathed.

"Bastard!"

This time she couldn't stop the tear that slipped from her eye and when he finally looked up at her he saw it too. He looked at her as if debating with himself then leaned in to her and pressed his lips to hers. At first she refused to respond but as his body moved closer and he pressed his full length against her she sobbed and opened her mouth to him. He moved her wrist into his other grip and lowered his right hand down to her face, holding her still as he continued to slide his lips over hers. He continued to lean into her as he pulled his mouth back a breath.

"I shouldn't be doing this. It's all wrong."

He moved back to her lips again but she turned her head and spoke stiffly. "Then don't. Go!"

"I—can't."

This time he turned her face back to him and pressed his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to protest but he took advantage of it and thrust his tongue inside. She felt her world spinning upon its contact and the realization that she was standing there practically nude with Gilbert Grissom's tongue darting in her mouth made her knees go weak. She started to slump against the wall, alerting him to release her and place his hands beneath her arms to keep her from falling. She grasped onto his neck, letting her fingers slide through his gray/brown curls as she responded fully to his kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating. The gentle touch of his fingers as they came in contact with the bare skin of her waist sent shivers through her and before she realized it, his kiss had moved along her jaw line to her ear, then on to her neck and throat.

She clutched onto him, urging him on to the rest of her nakedness. Her greatest fear was that he would come to his senses and turn and run out her door so she nearly cried out in despair as he lowered his lips to her shoulder and down between the front of her robe then paused as he panted against her skin.

"Griss," she gasped.

"Tell me to leave," he breathed against her as he continued to hold onto her waist tightly.

She kissed the hair on the top of his head, whispering her response. "Make love to me."

A sound very similar to a growl escaped Grissom and he pulled away from her as he rapidly ran his hand through his hair. He looked around at his surroundings then grabbed onto her hand and hurried toward the back of her apartment. He hesitated a moment.

"Where? Which room?"

"In there." She pointed to the door to her bedroom.

He barely had her inside before he began kissing her frantically. She started unbuttoning his jacket and pushing it over his arms. She began on his shirt as he moved with her across the bedroom until he lowered them both onto the bed.

He continued to ravage her mouth as he grabbed onto her hip and pulled her against him, pressing himself against her to alleviate the pressure she had built in him. He leaned more fully into her until she was on her back and his groin was pressing against her hip. His grasp slid up her sides, his touch so gentle that his fingers could have been _**feathers**_ floating across her sensitive skin until he slid the back of his digits beneath her breast. He moaned as he splayed his hand across the mound then moved his mouth away from hers to take his newfound treasure between his lips. She whimpered at the way he ran his tongue around her nipple, bit it, sucked it and teased it then when she began squirming beneath him, his touch went lower. She thought she was going to go insane with anticipation as his feather-like touch glided down over her stomach and paused at her abdomen only a second before trailing even lower until he touched the top of the nest he found there. Her hands moved over his shoulders, pulling him against her as he continued to suckle, bringing a whimper from deep within her throat.

She looked down at him and the sight of him feasting upon her flesh was the most erotic sight she had ever experienced. He moved his grasp from her and went to his pants as he fumbled with his zipper and pulled himself out. His lips released her breast and went lower until his kiss was on her stomach as his hand went back to her thighs. She could feel his urgency as he grasped onto it and squeezed then slid upward until he felt her moist heat. His hand lingered there and he lifted his head to look up at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yes!"

She nodded her head as she bit her bottom lip and flexed her fingers against his shoulders like a cat kneading its paws. He kissed his way back up her body until he covered her mouth with his and at that instant he slid his fingertips along the span of her, circling her throbbing nub and then quickly moving lower again and plunging inside of her. She couldn't remain passive any longer as she kissed him back and with one hand she slid her fingers over his back and felt the muscles there, while with the other hand, she reached down and unbuttoned his pants, pressing them open until she felt the steel-hard shaft he had released moments before. Her eyes opened a little wider upon the feel of it and she had a moment's hesitation as she wondered how it would fit, but hunger took over and she knew she'd find a way to "make it fit!"

"Is something wrong?" He breathed between kisses.

"You're—you're—you're. . ." she tried to answer as he continued to kiss her.

"My—what?"

"No—I mean you are. . ."

"I'm what?"

"Impressive."

He smiled against her lips and removed his hand from her, then pulled her legs farther apart then lifted himself until he settled between them. He placed his hand over hers as she guided him to her opening and he pressed against it. Even with her being as ready as she was, his entry was forced and he had to wait through several attempts for her body to adjust to his and when he finally pressed himself into the hilt, he had to stop and try to contain himself. His fingertips brushed the hair back from her face as he looked down at her and she wasn't sure if she saw doubt in his eyes or not.

"I—I'm looking at complete excellence, Sara. Do you know that? Do you understand?"

She gave him a single negative shake of her head. "No."

"Don't ever think I'd compare you to anyone. Because there "is no" comparison—you are perfection. And—perfection can be very intimidating."

She stared at him, momentarily stunned at his declaration because she had always felt that "she" was the one who was intimidated by "him." She reached up to kiss him but he turned slightly. "Gris?"

"I want you to understand, Sara. I'm here now. I crossed the line—and I won't go back anymore."

She nodded her head in acceptance and this time he met her lips with his. His hips started slowly but soon their kisses heated their passion and he was lifting her legs around his waist as he increased his speed as well as force. She was already climbing high on the actuality of their mating so when she felt herself beginning to climax all she could do was clasp onto his shoulders as she arched against him. He continued a few more strokes until he panted against her cheek as his legs stiffened against her and he released himself.

She turned with him as he collapsed next to her. She looked at his face, now in total relaxation with his eyes hidden behind their lids.

"Gris?" She asked quietly.

His eyes opened and he looked at her through those beautiful blue orbs. "How did you know, Sara? How were you so certain about us?"

"Because, it was always there—just beneath the surface."


End file.
